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Certainly not. Never. “Of course not, but one must be careful...” Admonishing his flock could be difficult at times. Especially those well above his age.

She leaned towards him and poked one of those knobby fingers into his abandoned napkin. “Young man, you may be a preacher, but I’ve been around the world a time or two more than you have.”

Humor lurked in her eyes. What was she about? “Tell me if you must. ”

“I must. Being your first Sunday and all, you are feeling rather accepted. The honeymoon so to speak. Things may get harder down the road.” She paused. Being a minister had always been hard. “A group of us are abolitionists. And a majority are not. I need to know which foot you dig with.”

The old Irish term was not lost on him, only this was no Protestant, Catholic debate. What to do about this one so soon in the game? The southern church had already decided. “Will you not tell me which group you follow first?”

“A man like yourself, preaching with such conviction as he showed in the pulpit today would hardly be afraid to come out and say anything that needs saying.”

“Came across a bit strong, did I?”

“It’s good for them.” She gave him another pointed look and recited words he knew by heart, and had once argued passionately.

“Give liberty to whom liberty is due, that is, to every child of man, to very partaker of human nature. Let none serve you but by his own act and deed, by his own voluntary action. Away with all whips, all chains, all compulsion. Be gentle toward all men, and see that you invariably do with everyone as you would he should do unto you.” She smiled. “Your John Wesley said that.”

He tented his fingers on the table. “I do not hold to slavery, but know this, I’m not about to start a war in this town over the issue.”

“War...” She looked at her empty plate. “Perhaps it will come to that.”

Daniel panicked. To wear one’s politics on one’s sleeve could mean the loss of his job.

He’d already crossed the chasm that breached the church to stay in ministry.

“Please keep this to yourself. I need time to get to know the people.” The southern Methodists had chosen sides.

This didn’t mean that the congregants followed suit.

Thus his reasoning for accepting the job so far from home.

She dipped her head. “As you wish. ”

He was curious, though. “Do you belong to a very zealous group?”

“Five women and two gentlemen. We have our ploys.” Her eyes sparkled with far too much story behind them for safety. The law might not spare even an old woman from punishment.

“Mrs. Ramshaw, I pray you do not put yourself in danger?”

She gave a low nod, her cap lace dragged the table. “We are very careful.”

“You spoke of incidents, I believe.”

“Most members of our church own other human beings.”

“Yes. I am aware.”

“Four of our members own at least twenty or more. Two of them appear to be fair masters, as fair as one can be in such sordid circumstances. The other two, I’ll not give you the names yet, ought to be tarred and feathered.”

Her eyes pierced his as if challenging his senses. Obviously, he was not properly shocked.

Her voice took a bitter turn. “I once nursed one of their women back to life. She was so abused she could no longer hold her bowels. Gave her to me as a gift! Stupid man. I took her gladly and gave her freedom before she died.”

“I tried to be a mother to her, but it wasn’t me she wanted.

Her own mother would not be released to come to her daughter’s side even for those last hours.

The beast refused my request. The woman had been necessary at a garden party.

” Bitterness and sorrow laced her words.

Tears gathered about the corners of her eyes. This woman confounded him.

“I’m sorry.” Life carried much ugliness.

“Yes. But to tell you the truth, I’m tired of being sorry.”

Daniel sipped his steaming coffee, the paltry action failed to ward off the imagery and pain. “This man—has anyone confronted him about his ways? ”

“A few. They were not of enough social importance to tip the scales though. Evil is evil, Rev. Merrick. If you are to be the keeper of this flock, you need to know in what manner the evil exists.”

He shifted in his chair. “I wish it were more clear-cut.”

“It is clear cut, indeed, how is it not?” Her words, sharp and true, sliced through his non-committal defense.

He held up both hands like a scale. “God’s law versus American law, both are taken as infallible and interchangeable among its people.”

“If only they were one and the same, I suppose it would be Heaven,” she smiled.

“Yes, quite.”

“I will not ask you who these cruel people are. Perhaps soon, I might. But for now, let me pray on it.”

“Only pray about it if you are going to do it properly, sir,” she said.

This woman surely was made from pepper and spice. “What do you mean by properly?”

“Pray with the expectation of getting exactly what you’ve asked.”

Mrs. Ramshaw’s words wheedled into his mind.

Ate at him all afternoon. His duty was to teach God’s word, preach, and prepare the dying for Heaven.

Not to take a slave master in hand or enter into politics of any kind.

Being a one-man show at this church, there simply would not be time.

God would be a proper judge. Yes, the matter was God’s work and His alone.

He propped his cold feet by the dying kitchen fire and ate a chunk of toasted bread. He rocked slowly and gazed at live, orange-red flickering coals. He missed the noise of his busy brothers, his humming mother. Even Francine, though she’d managed to annoy him greatly .

When all was settled with his mother’s marriage to Mr. Johnson, he’d invite them for a visit. Perhaps at Christmastime. By then, every frustration would be swept under the rug. He hoped.